


love me (among the snowflakes)

by crowaus



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Holiday Fic Exchange, Love Confessions, M/M, Persona 5 Spoilers, akechi is basically confused for a while, confident akira, forgive him he’s trying, panicked akechi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowaus/pseuds/crowaus
Summary: It’s Christmas-time again, exactly one year since they managed to scrape together and save the world. Goro Akechi has long since come to terms with his survival—that's not the issue here. What it really comes down to is the last, final battle: is he the type of person that's capable of love?orGoro has never experience love, true love, and it’s up to him, as the clock ticks down to Christmas day, to decide whether or not he’s willing to admit it. 4-and-1prompt (four times he struggles with the idea of love, and the one time he finally admits it).
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	love me (among the snowflakes)

**Author's Note:**

> For @hayano on Twitter.
> 
> This was written for the Persona Secret Santa 2020 gift exchange! I am truly so thankful to have gotten this prompt and I hope I did it justice! Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season. Enjoy! <3

“Snow’s late this year,” Ann sighs. The warmth of her breath fogs the section of the window she’s staring out from, and she reaches up to rub it away with her sleeve in frustration, eyes snapping back to the skies in hopes the clouds heard the disappointment in her voice.

From his seat a few booths down, Goro chuckles under his breath. “I don’t understand your infatuation with snow. It’s simply frozen water obeying gravity. What’s so enticing?”

“Haven’t you ever looked over a field full of fresh, untouched snow?” Haru speaks up from beside Ann. Unlike the latter, she turns as she speaks, bright eyes meeting Goro’s dark and unamused ones. “Regardless of what it’s made of, snow is breathtakingly beautiful.”

“And”—Ann’s voice rises in pitch here, her hands clenching into excited fists—“it’s the perfect season for delicious desserts! Christmas is next week and a chilly snow day is the best for hot chocolate.”

Futaba, curled up in her barstool, sits up just enough to widen her eyes in their direction. “Next week?” she squeaks. “Why didn’t anyone remind me? Ugh, I knew I should’ve stopped playing after I’d finished the daily quests. Now all the good gifts will be taken…”

Goro isn’t paying attention to the girls whatsoever, simply for the reason that he’s preoccupied with a chess game against himself at the moment, but he makes sure to reply with something (they would pester him relentlessly if he chose to ignore them completely). Goro is rather annoyed to have been left with them while the others went off shopping for supplies. Haru would have insisted on paying for everything, which Makoto would not allow but would be forced to anyway, and all Ann would want to purchase would be sweets, sweets, and—of course—more sweets. The two of them were obstacles the others could not risk, hence they required a babysitter. In Futaba’s case, she wasn’t interested in shopping unless it was directly for her interests. Although now that she's been reminded of her gift deadline, Goro is sure she regrets turning the offer down on joining the others. _He_ does.

_“We headin’ out yet?” Ryuji whines from his seat. “Haven’t had the chance to get something for my mom and I really need help choosing.”_

_Makoto sends him an icy look as she tightens her scarf. “Relax. It’s still early, so it’s not like the stores are closing. We have plenty of time.” She checks her watch as she says this, as though confirming something she already knew. “...actually, we should leave soon if we want to beat the lunch hour rush. The subway will be packed in the next hour.”_

_Ann mutters to herself meanwhile, lips pursed in thought, and it isn’t until Ryuji brushes past her, anxious to leave, that she snaps out of it. “Wait, so while you guys are gone, what do Haru and I do? Is there something we can prepare?”_

_Akira shrugs from his seat, eyes darting to each member that surrounds him. “Don’t think there’s much to do.” He glances around the room, eyes taking in the almost-bare walls and lack of theme, before asking, “Futaba, does Sojiro have any Christmas decorations?” A beat of silence passes. “Uh… Futaba?”_

_The bell at the door rings and Ryuji suddenly lets out a yelp, just barely missing the swinging partition. “Did someone summon me?” Futaba calls as she walks in, a large box cupped in her arms. It’s large enough to cover her face, and her voice is slightly muffled, though that’s not unusual. “I come with gifts, though they’re a bit old… and smelly…”_

_All at once, the remaining members crowd the smaller girl as they dive into the box of treasures, hoping to find a diamond among the rough. Goro watches all of this unfold from the barstool he occupies, with a warm mug of coffee cupped in both his palms. Even though he’s dressed head-to-toe, the cold has still managed to seep its way into his very bones, and holding that cup is all he can do to keep it at bay._

_After a few moments of chatter and excitement, among plans and meal ideas, Akira wanders his way over to Goro’s side. His hand instinctively reaches out to tap at the other’s chin, an affectionate habit he picked up after a period of time where Goro refused to look him in the eye (the culprit for this was a hair accident involving a box of dye and a scissor-wielding Ryuji—a memory Goro would love to be brutally burned from his mind). In response to this, the elder looks up and their eyes meet. Akira looks apologetic, and Goro knows he’s going to loathe whatever is about to leave those pretty lips._

_“So…”_

_“No,” Goro replies stiffly, snatching his chin away from the warm fingers cupping them. “Raincheck.”_

_“There’s no rain check for this one,” Akira sighs. “It’s kind of a do-or-die situation.”_

_He shrugs. “Then I’ll opt for the latter choice, thank you.”_

_“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”_

_The others are still chatting rather animatedly at the booths, so Goro allows his stoic facial expression to fall and places hesitant eyes on Akira. “Fine. What is it you need?”_

_“...Could you please stay behind with Ann and Haru?”_

_Goro had been expecting a completely different request if he’s being honest. Perhaps it would’ve been to directly work with Ryuji and his gift-picking, a task he would abhor (and not only because he would be doing so for a stranger, but much more because of the company he’d be keeping), or even being forced to keep Yusuke from wandering off and spending all of his gift money on items he certainly doesn’t need (Akira has told him many times about the lobsters). But this? Staying behind with not only Haru, someone he knows he will possibly never connect with after what he’s done, but also Ann? Ann?! Goro truly wishes he could say he’s found a friend in the loud, bubbly model but suffice to say… he hasn’t._

_Still, Akira did say please. It’s not often he asks Goro to specifically do anything, as they usually work in synchronization and rarely need words to do so, and it’s here that he realizes he needs to simply ‘take one for the team’._

_“So be it,” he relents, turning back towards the counter to take another sip of his coffee. “I’ll stay behind with them, but I can’t promise the cafe will be in the same wonderful, singular piece it is as you see it now.”_

_Although his words were more on the reluctant side, his heart swells with self-pride at his decision when he feels Akira wrap his arms around him and place a heartwarming kiss into the depths of his hair. He chuckles into his ear, low and warm—enough to send chills racing across Goro’s skin._

_“Have I told you recently that you’re the best?”_

_“It wouldn’t hurt you to say it more often so that I’ll remember.”_

Goro frowns at the chessboard. For once, he’s at a loss on what to do next. He isn’t sure if it’s from the girls' loud chattering from the corner as they string up another set of lights from Futaba’s box, or the sudden realization that he still hasn’t decided what to get Akira for Christmas.

What does one purchase for a man like Akira Kurusu? The man is content to still sleep in a dusty old attic above a cafe that barely gets five customers a month, and he seems to wear the same outfit almost every day, which is surprising considering the amount of cat hair they should be covered in. In what world could Goro get him something that would truly surprise him?

“Ann?” It takes a moment for him to realize the name came out of _his_ mouth. Why did he say her name?

Unbeknownst to his thoughts, she turns from her spot beside Futaba, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Without a word, she leaves her post-mid-conversation and walks over, head tilted to the side. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Well, now that she’s here. “You’ve… given many gifts to others, correct? Would you say you’re an expert?”

Her thicker lower lip juts out in a frown. “In picking gifts? I think so. Everyone I give gifts to always seems to be happy. Oh! This one time, I got Shiho this necklace she’d been eyeing for _months_ —” She cuts herself off when she notices Goro’s expression, one devoid of any emotion in order to make her shut up. “Uh, sorry. Yes, I’d say I’m pretty good at it.”

“Then do you think…”

For some reason, Goro’s words trail off. This isn’t something that happens a lot, as he’s used to planning his words beforehand in an effort to always sound calculating and sure of himself. But it’s in this instant that he _isn’t_ sure, especially since he’s considering asking Ann Takamaki for help. He's not one to ask anyone for help. At least, not enough to be comfortable with it.

“Who's the giftee?”

Ann picks up on his unspoken words easily. The smile on her face is comforting—consoling, really—and there’s a part of it that irritates him. Is she pitying him?

“Yes,” he whispers quickly. He’s long forgotten to keep playing his game of chess, so he idly turns a captured queen in his palm. “Akira. I haven’t taken the time to go shopping.”

“Akira!” Her eyes sparkle as she says his name, and Goro is quick to realize that this must be somewhat of a dream come true to her. “Of course I’ll help you pick a gift for him! Ah, I have so many ideas already...” Her words fall into hushed words under her breath, eyes slipping from Goro’s as her mind wanders, and he has to snap his fingers to gather her attention once more.

“I can see you’ve thought of this many times before, but the gift has to come from me. Whatever you’re already thinking of”—he shakes his head in one quick motion—“drop it. It won’t work. He’ll know it’s not mine.”

Ann nods in agreement, as much as it surprises him. “Yeah, I know.” She steeples her fingers on the surface of the table, eyes meeting Goro’s hard ones. She’s ready. “Okay. What have you noticed about him lately?”

“Noticed?”

Goro _always_ notices Akira. What’s there not to remember? He notices the way his hair is always pressed to one side when he wakes up, eyes lazy and mouth smacking at the stale taste of sleep. He notices the neat way he lines his shoes by the railing and how often he mistakenly grabs the wrong pair. Goro notices the way he stomps down the stairs, thin hands tucked in his pockets, yet another show of his quiet but overwhelming confidence. Goro notices the way he laughs, the way he smiles, the way his eyes tilt with emotion when told a sad story—he takes notice of the warmth of his hands when he reaches for Goro, the way his hair tickles the tips of his ears during a hug, notices the bristles of peach fuzz Akira forgets to shave and how they itch against his skin when they kiss. Goro notices it all. How could he not? He lo—

His thoughts freeze and Goro has to stop himself from finishing it. What was he about to say? Like an ocean wave, the words that were once at the front of his mind have suddenly receded into the depths of his thoughts, just slightly out of reach.

“I mean, have you noticed anything he could want as a gift? Has he mentioned anything he’d like to get?”

Ann’s voice snaps him back to reality, and Goro is reminded where he is—Leblanc, conversation with Ann, Akira isn’t here. Right.

“Well, ah… Akira has mentioned his scarf has started to fray. And his nice shoes, the ones he wears for interviews—the soles have gotten loose.” When Goro looks up, there’s evident hope in his eyes. “Something like that?”

Ann looks troubled—damn, he’s a lost cause, isn’t he?

“Those _could_ work, but you don’t want to give him something that doesn’t seem personal. It has to be the type of gift that, when he looks at it, he’s reminded of you.” She tilts her head to the side, that same pitying smile from earlier coming back. God, how he hates it. “Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” he snaps. “I believe I understand what you mean.”

Haru has stayed quiet the entire time, silently listening from the small tree she’s been decorating, but it’s at this moment she decides to speak. “Is there something that connects the two of you? Something that has meaning?” She looks up when Goro glances over. Although it’s clear she’d rather not be speaking to him, he’s sure it’s simply because she cares for Akira that Haru decided to speak up. “If you have something like that, it’ll be easier to make the connection.”

“Oh, yeah!” Futaba shouts from her place behind the counter. “When I was a kid, my mom would always get me a new Featherman figurine because sometimes, when she got home late and needed to unwind, she’d sit and watch episodes of it with me until she fell asleep. After a while, we started planning the nights out. It’s what kept us connected.”

“That’s an awesome example, Futaba,” Ann grins.

“I agree,” Haru adds. “I even had something of a similar experience myself. Before my father became the type of man he was before his death, he did love me. As a child, he would call me his doll and would spend a lot of money on fulfilling any of my desires on how I looked. Every Christmas, he would buy me a doll that looked exactly like me—a matching outfit that was identical to my recently favored one, an exact hairstyle, and even the choice of eye contacts. I had dozens.”

A doll? Goro doesn’t want to mention it out loud, but perhaps that is what led Okumura to use his daughter as something he could manipulate. Maybe that once innocent outlook on his young daughter became warped, and he soon thought of her as something he was free to use to fulfill his needs.

Ann isn’t as quick to comment on her addition, but she smiles in Haru’s direction nonetheless. “Right. So now you have some examples to compare you and Akira to.”

“But these memories come from years of knowledge of each other. The two of us—it’s only been a year.”

Is that it? Has all this time gone to waste? Goro doesn’t have the slightest idea on what item could hold significance between the two of them, especially given the time constraint. How can he put their entire year into one item? Have they had that kind of experience?

Once again, Ann’s smile is back. But this time, it’s different. Just slightly, but Goro notices this, of course. She almost looks… amused. It’s even more irritating.

“Look, the two of you have a connection. A really strong one. I don’t know how or when, but it’s there. And a connection like this—it doesn’t take the same time to build memories as other relationships do.” Ann sighs and places her hands flat on the table to push herself up. “You have _something_. You just have to remember it.”

It’s here that she leaves him at the table, along with his thoughts. While she returns to Futaba’s side to continue decorating Boss’ area of the shop, Goro is left to search his memories in hopes of finding anything that holds meaning for both him and Akira. Is there a past situation he’s not remembering? Is there something within his memories hiding from him, not yet ready to see the light once again?

Whatever it is, he has to find it.

…and he has to avoid Ann. She’s annoying.

—————————

Later that night, long after the others had come back and long after they’d left, Goro decides to leave the cafe. Sometimes he’ll stay the night with Akira, too tired to head home or—the majority of the time—only realizing he has one once it’s too late to do anything about it. But tonight, he knows he has a lot of thinking to do. So what better way to keep himself alone with his thoughts than to strip him of any distractions?

Therefore, time to go home.

“Do you have to?” Akira whines quietly in his ear as the two embrace. Goro breathes in deeply from his shoulder, eyes closing even though he’s aware he’s going to be late. “You can stay tonight. I’ll ask Futaba if it’s okay to send Morgana over.”

“No,” he chuckles quietly. “It’s better if I go.”

“At least let me help you then.”

“Help?”

Akira reaches for Goro’s scarf sitting on the counter where he’d left it hours ago. Without responding, he goes to work making sure it covers his entire neck and stays tight enough for the trip home.

“You can’t forget your scarf, can you?”

“I have yet to know how you make these so well,” Goro comments as he looks down. “Mine always slip and come loose not too long after I leave my apartment.”

Akira laughs, hand reaching out to tap at Goro’s chin. “I’ll show you one day. It’s pretty easy.”

Goro hums in response before he leans forward, mouth parting to capture Akira's kiss. He’s eager to reciprocate it and neither of them realizes just how much they’d missed their kisses until Akira’s hip suddenly hits the counter. They part in quiet laughter, their eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, scarf genius.”

“Yes, you will.”

He grabs his suitcase by the door and gives his partner a final glance before stepping outside. The crisp air is quick to greet him, and he feels his cheeks flush from the sharp contrast of temperature. He pulls his jacket tighter around his body and pushes himself in the direction of the subway.

Goro doesn’t really know the meaning of sentimentality. Of course, he knows the dictionary definition of the word, but it’s another thing entirely to experience it. From an early age, he believed he was cursed. His life wasn’t the type filled with close relationships, happiness, or even love. He lost his mom, was abandoned by his father, and became the sort of person he never imagined. Where in all that did sentiment fit? And yet, here he was, in a relationship with the same man who spiked his curiosity all those months ago. The same man that sooner-than-later irritated him so much that he almost took his life and the same one that would’ve made an excellent first friend—he’s now become his first partner.

But sentimentality?

Goro reunites with himself as he reaches the subway steps, taking them carefully as his mind is still preoccupied with the given question. His eyes wander all the while, taking stock of his surroundings like he’s used to, until he sees a group of three making their way off the nearest subway. It’s a family—a man, a woman, and their young son. The boy is five, maybe six years old, and he hugs a blanket to the side of his face. He’s fast asleep in the father’s arms but the grip on the material never loosens, even though the blanket looks so torn apart that it should’ve disappeared years ago.

As Goro passes them, he can hear whispers from the parents. “Look at him,” the mother laughs, eyes trained on the young boy. “He’ll never let go of that, will he?”

“No, he will not,” the father whispers with a grin. “Shouldn’t we get him a new one? I don’t think it’ll hold for another wash.”

“Are you crazy? He’ll cry his head off if he finds out we threw it out. My mom gave him that.”

“Oh, that’s right.” The father sounds saddened. Eyes that were just shining a few moments ago have suddenly lost that luster. “That was before she passed away, wasn’t it?”

Goro can’t listen anymore. He quickens his pace and passes the still-open subway doors, only letting out a sigh of relief once they close behind him. He watches the family climb the steps as one, his mind still recalling the sweet and peaceful face of the young boy as he hugs the blanket his dead grandmother once gave him. 

Stupid. He’s so stupid.

Goro read once that sentimentality has two sides to it, much like any coin found in the depths of a wallet. The two sides may seem similar but they differ greatly, even in the smallest ways. For instance, he once learned that sentimentality can have a downside. Many correlate the word to mean good things, like a mother’s favorite scarf or a dead dog’s favorite chew toy. It’s things like these that allow many to recall precious memories with their loved ones, either alive or deceased. But oftentimes, sentimentality can also ease the troubled hearts of those who don’t deserve it.

Murderers. Demagogues. Psychopaths.

He briefly remembers Adolf Hitler to be a sentimentalist. He would cry often when greeting his brothers-in-arms, especially after a long recession of seeing one another. And yet, Goro has still never experienced sentimentality. If people of this nature have known what sentimentality was at some point, why hasn’t he? What about his life has kept him from feeling an emotion that all types of people, good or bad, have had the opportunity to experience?

Is he not worth it? Is he still cursed? He clenches his jaw tight, ignoring the others in seats nearby. Why can’t he get what everyone else has?

As Goro watches the darkened walls pass by in a flash through the window, he begins to wonder if he’ll ever know what it’s like to care for someone so much, they leave imprints in every little thing long after they’re gone.

Is that what love is? Does he— _can_ he love?

—————————

The following morning, Goro makes his way to Leblanc, as he promised he would. It’s Saturday, a nice day for relaxing in the atmosphere Boss has so carefully maintained through the years and to be enveloped by the welcome scent of coffee.

The street isn’t very crowded as Goro turns onto it. It’s still early, the bright-and-early that was promised, so the sun is still fighting to peek over the distant rooftops and cast its heat over the frozen pavement. The air is just as sharp as it was the previous night, desperate to freeze him from within. It’s one of the many reasons he cursed in the mirror before he left home, annoyed that he has yet to mimic the way Akira can tie a scarf.

Shaking like a fallen leaf, Goro pulls the door handle and ushers himself into the warm, coffee-scented air just as Boss sets a fresh pot down. “Ah,” he greets calmly, his voice sending an abundance of warmth in Goro’s direction. “Welcome, welcome. Should’ve known you’d be coming in today.”

“Of course! I’d hate to go a day without your incredible coffee. Who do you take me for?” 

Goro already has a smile on his lips from the words but, surprisingly, Boss sends one back. It’s enough to make his arms freeze in the middle of pulling off his jacket, a sleeve brushing the floor. Did he imagine the small quirk to the older man’s lips? As if he’d noticed he’d done something wrong, the smile is gone just as quickly as it came. Goro can’t help but think about what Futaba would say at the interaction.

There’s an itch in Boss’ brows, an unspoken word dangling from his tongue, but the older man can’t push himself to say it. After a second, he shakes his head gently and picks up the pot of coffee again to pour some in a thin mug. This he places on the counter at Goro’s seat, patting the wood beside it softly.

“Come up if you’d like,” he announces as he turns and steps toward the blackened screen of the television. “That one’s for you.”

Goro nods but he’s already taken a step towards the stairs. “One moment. I’d like to see if he’s awake.” Boss gives him a nod and he begins to make his way up as quietly as he can.

The shades are still pulled in the room, making the attic look a lot darker than usual. Goro can just barely make out a large lump on the bed, hidden deep under the thick covers Akira pulls out during the winter, and he takes his shoes off softly so as not to disturb him before tiptoeing his way over.

Before he’s made it halfway, a black ball jumps off the highest point of the lump. “I’ll leave before this starts,” comes a whispered voice in the darkness. “You've sat on me _way_ too many times…”

Goro winces and watches the black lump walk across the floor. “I’ve apologized for that, haven’t I?”

“No,” Morgana hisses.

The talking cat is down the stairs before Goro makes an effort to apologize like he said he would. Which he wasn’t going to. Instead, he continues on his way towards the bed. He stops once he’s beside it and reaches out to grasp the edge of the blanket, pulling it back just enough to allow him to slip in. An immense warmth envelops him almost immediately, and he sighs aloud in contentment, goosebumps rapidly traveling across his skin.

“Welcome to my cave of warmth,” Akira suddenly whispers, voice thick with sleep. “Enjoy your stay.”

Goro can’t help the laugh that slips out of his mouth at those words. “A cave of warmth? Interesting.” He begins to think of any way to get Akira to sober up, just enough for him to realize it’s morning, when an idea comes to him. His hands grasp at the edge again and, in one quick motion, raises the blanket and then yanks it back down.

A whine rises from the back of Akira’s throat. “Cold!” he exclaims. His body squirms as he rolls close to Goro, curling up into his side. He can’t see his expression but he can only guess how irritated he must look. “That was mean,” he mumbles. “You broke my cave.”

“I’m sorry,” Goro laughs. “I just wanted to wake you.”

“Why?”

“Well… so I could spend more time with you. I can't let you sleep all day.”

A beat of silence passes and then Goro hears a giggle. Hands rise up from the depths of the blanket cave and they cup his face, squeezing his cheeks. “You’re cute,” Akira tells him. “So, so cute.”

“Akira…!” Now it’s his turn to whine, but he doesn’t pull his face out of his boyfriend’s grip. Instead, he lets himself be pulled close and allows their lips to meet in the quiet. It’s a short kiss, quick and fleeting, but the warmth that washes over him is more than worth it.

“ _Cute_ , but please don’t do that again,” Akira finishes. “Now I’m cold.”

“Then come with me. Your _father_ has coffee waiting for the both of us downstairs.”

“Mm, coffee…”

Reluctantly, Goro leaves him alone under the blanket and instead goes to slowly draw the curtains. He can see Akira now, wearing a furrowed expression and eyes shut tight from the light.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” he whispers. “I’ll help you.”

Akira cracks his eyes open. He’s wearing a smile now, one so soft that Goro could melt in front of him. He pushes himself up, even as his shoulders shake from the change in temperature. 

He waves his hand in the direction of the box on the shelf. “Can you grab me some clothes?”

Goro goes and opens the top, frowning at the disarray of clothes inside. “Why don’t you have a dresser?”

“A box is easy,” is the reply. “It’s all just… _there_.”

“So is a dresser. But it’s much more organized so you’ll be able to get dressed easier.”

“Are you saying I don’t look good every day?”

Goro’s eyes snap towards him, surprise evident in his eyes, but he purses his lips when he sees Akira’s sneaky smile. “Of course you do,” he sighs. “Just… a dresser would be better. A little upgrade for your attic.”

Once he picks out some clothes, he tosses them to Akira, who quickly begins to dress. His bare feet curl against the cold wood floor, but he’s done before he can whine about it. Goro tosses him some socks before bringing over a random pair of sneakers by the stairs.

“Thanks, baby,” Akira mumbles to him as he finishes tying the laces. He plants a quick kiss on his cheek before slipping his glasses on. “Now, coffee.”

He’s already down the stairs before Goro even registers he’s gone. _Baby_ … That’s new.

When he finally makes it downstairs, he can already hear the sink running in the bathroom, so he steps past and heads for his mug on the counter. Thanks to the mug cover Boss had most graciously slipped over it, it stayed warm in his absence. He takes a generous sip. Perfect.

The cafe owner is still at the stove, fiddling with the knobs and such for the early morning, so Goro takes the time to observe the older man. He still looks as spry as he’s always seen him (they _have_ only known each other for almost two years), but there’s a weathering on his brow like he’s holding something back that’s quite worrisome. Boss is hunched over just slightly, a wince gracing his features every time it changes angles—now Goro is even more worried. What could be troubling him?

“Boss,” Goro announces, albeit hesitantly. “How are you doing this morning?”

“Eh?” he mutters, looking up slightly to squint in his direction. “I’d say I’m doing just as well as any other day. Why, what’s the matter?”

Goro gives him a shrug, full of nonchalance, but his mind is still churning. “You look overwhelmed. Perhaps a bit bothered. Is something wrong?”

If he hadn’t been looking at Boss so intensely, he wouldn’t have caught the slight flinch indicated by the shake in his shoulders. The man’s face hardens, jaw sets into place, and Goro fears he’s set off a chain reaction he’s far too helpless to stop.

“My boy,” he spits. “Akira.”

“Akira? What about him?”

It’s here that Boss finally looks away from the stove knobs and sets a heavy gaze onto his small frame. It takes a good deal to get Goro quivering in his boots but ever since he began to live side-by-side in the lives of Sojiro and Akira, he’s softened—and quite a lot, by the way he goes rigid when Boss mutters, “What’s your plan with him?”

_What?_

“Excuse me?” is all he can muster.

Boss hisses under his breath and takes a moment to cross his arms. “Your _plan_ ,” he repeats as if Goro hadn’t heard him the first time. “I know it’s been a year, an eventful one at that, but excuse me if I’m the only one who still has trust issues when it comes to you.”

Ah. That.

The younger man squares his shoulders, but his eyes drop nonetheless, taking residence in a chip on the counter. “You’re not,” Goro muttered.

“So you understand why I ask about your intentions with Akira.”

“...Yes.”

“You at one point intended to _kill_ him.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And when you found out you failed, you tried _again_.”

“...I did do that, yes.”

“But now…” Boss goes silent, abruptly enough that Goro is forced to look up to make sure he didn’t simply disappear into thin air. The older man almost looks like he’s on the verge of breaking into tears but he has enough willpower to hold himself back. “Now he loves you.”

(Loves?)

Goro repeats this but it takes him a while to realize it came out as just a whisper—quiet enough for Boss to easily talk right over it.

“You’ve been dating for a year. And even during his time as one of the Phantom Thieves, he never smiled as much as he does with you.” There's sadness in Boss' eyes. Is that a joyful sadness or one full of regret?

Goro is still trapped at the man’s previous words, but he pauses his endeavor to catch up with the conversation. “I’m happy with him, as well. His happiness is very important to me. But could you repeat what you just—”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Boss suddenly professed. “I didn’t mean to snap at you this early. You just… poured it out of me, I guess.”

He doesn’t know how to reply. What do you say to something like this?

“Don’t take this as a confession to hating you. Although I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done, I am a man and I know how a person can change.” Although there’s been a constant hardness in his expression, Boss’ face lightens just a bit as he speaks. “I’ve seen it already, of course. With Akira.”

“I understand,” Goro frowns. “I’ll never be able to apologize enough.”

“No,” Boss grunts, nibbling on his lower lip. “No, you won’t. But the least you can do is promise me one thing.”

After a lecture like that, Goro will promise him just about anything. “Of course.”

Boss locks eyes with him. “Love Akira. Love him as much as he loves you.”

“Love him?”

The older man nods. “ _Love_ him. As crazy as it sounds, the two of you have something special. So love him.”

Goro is about to reply once more (with what, he has no idea) but then the bathroom door rips open and the conversation is gone. The suddenness scares the both of them, Boss rushing to grab the nearest newspaper and feign reading, while Goro is quick to cup his mug in his hand in an effort to look like he’d been holding it all along.

“Morning, Sojiro,” Akira greets as he waltzes out. He passes Goro with a little shake of his hair and approaches the fridge. “You’re up early.”

Boss nods from the other side of his parted newspaper. “I’m always up early. You aren’t. Goro here wake you up?”

“Yup,” Akira confirms. He frowns at the interior of the fridge, pondering what to do, before he grabs the bowl of eggs. He closes the door quite confidently, but as soon as he places the bowl on the counter, he frowns. “Um, is Ann here yet?”

“No, why?” Akira doesn’t answer fast enough for Boss because he looks over his newspaper to see what’s troubling him. Almost immediately, he puts the paper on the counter and rushes to his side. “I’ll do it. Don’t touch anything.”

Akira blinks. “Oh. Okay. That’s a good idea.” He doubles back around the counter and takes the stool beside Goro, cupping his own mug of coffee which he sips from. “Oh, ew, toothpaste and coffee…”

There’s a brief pause where no one speaks, the only sound coming from the stove and the coffee pot still brewing. For some reason, Goro can’t bring himself to look to the side and catch Akira’s gaze, solely because Boss’ words still echo loudly in his head. 

_Love him._

Love? It’s such a simple four-letter word, isn’t it? But he has no idea what it means. He still has yet to understand where he and sentimentality stand, but love? How can Goro truly know what it is and how to express it when he’s never had anyone show him how? 

A thought begins to crawl its way out of the depths of his mind, pouring out to fill each recess in a thick, murky heaviness. It weighs down on him and he feels his eyes slam shut, tightening their hold over his sight to clamp down on the squeezing sensation he begins to feel in his chest.

Will Akira leave if Goro never truly understands how to love him?

He feels a tap on his chin and he jumps, the heaviness disappearing as his thoughts clear. Akira is squinting at him, head tilted to get a better view of Goro’s eyes hidden behind his length of hair.

“I’ll guess you didn’t hear a thing I said,” he mumbles, amused.

Goro blinks at him. “Sorry, uh, no. I didn’t. I was—”

“—in your thoughts, I know,” Akira supplies. He reaches up to run his fingers in his boyfriend’s hair, twirling the mocha locks as he goes. “I was just talking about the others, actually. Between the two of us, we don’t really have that many life skills, do we?”

“As in?”

“Haru is a gardener, Ann can bake, Yusuke can paint… What can we do?”

“I know what you can do,” Boss cuts in from his position at the stove. “You” —he uses his spatula to point at Akira— “can go flip the sign outside the door. And you” —the spatula shifts over to Goro— “can come over here and help me serve the eggs.”

A stifled laugh bubbles past Goro’s lips, but his face goes rigid from the look Boss sends him. He’s quick to rise from his chair and join the older man behind the counter while Akira heads for the door. They’ve only served one plate when Akira says, “Oh, morning, Ryuji!”

Great.

“Hey,” Ryuji greets in return. He follows Akira in and says, “You're never down here by the time I walk in. What’re you doing up?”

He jerks a thumb in Goro’s direction, who decides to simply look away. “He bothered me until I woke up. What are _you_ doing here?”

“Did you forget our mall trip? I didn’t get to pick anything yesterday because of Yusuke and his _stupid_ stuff. Filled up the whole cart—!” He cuts himself off, his face already turning a shade of pink, and clenches his hands. “Anyway, we got a long day.”

“Oh, right.” Akira frowns and looks over just as Goro places another full plate at the counter. He winces at the sight (and the thought of Boss knowing what he’s attempting to do) before he sees him sigh. “After breakfast. Sojiro _did_ go to all the trouble.” 

“And he’s lucky I make them in a batch,” the older man smiles, placing another plate down from beside Goro. “Sit, Sakamoto. Eat.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

The four of them choose their respective plates (and seats) before the cafe goes quiet with only the sounds of them eating. Akira kicks the side of Goro's leg, an ever-teasing smile permanent on his face, and he can see Ryuji gagging just past him at the sight. It only encourages him to kick back. 

After they’ve finished, Akira and Ryuji head for the door, but it’s a last-second idea that prompts Akira to turn and say, “You're coming, right?”

“Huh?” Goro must not have been listening. Did he just invite him to help Ryuji shop?

“Shopping,” he repeats as if he’d read Goro’s mind. “You’re coming with us.”

“No, I don’t want to—”

“You said you wanted to spend time with me, remember?”

“You’re using my own words against me.”

“Yes, I am.”

There’s a brief silence while Goro keeps their gaze locked. He frowns slightly, eyes narrowing to the point that Akira mimics him, but he releases a slow sigh and taps the countertop in defeat.

“Fine. I’ll join you.”

While Ryuji gives a silent pained expression to the wall, Akira grins happily. “Knew I could convince you. Get your jacket on.”

Goro nods and stands from his stool. While his boyfriend rushes to grab their jackets, he takes a moment to gather the plates and lay them at the bottom of the sink. 

Boss watches him. “What, I have to do those too?”

He’s tempted to laugh. “Of course not. We’ll be back soon. I’ll take care of them then.” Goro swears he sees a smile ghost an appearance on that weathered face, but it’s gone before he can confirm it. “Don’t clean a single plate. They’re all mine.”

“You’re damn right, they are,” Boss says in a huff. He gets to his feet and eyes an approaching Akira. “Don’t let Sakamoto go too far. He’ll get lost and the last thing I need is his mother at my door.”

“I’m not a kid,” Ryuji complains. “I know my way home.”

All he gets in return is a few raspy laughs.

Akira loops a scarf from behind and hands Goro his coat. “Still need me to do it?”

“Of course.”

His boyfriend wraps it quick, nice and tight as always, whispering, “Never forget the scarf,” before reaching down to grab his hand as they charge outside, Ryuji in tow.

Just the feeling of Akira’s hand in his makes all the thoughts in Goro’s mind instantly disappear. It reminds him of when they first began dating, the hesitant touches and nervous laughter that led to confident kisses and strong grips. But like a direct flashback to those times, Akira’s touch sends his heart racing.

_Is this…?_

“Oi,” Ryuji barks in his ear, brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s up with you? You haven’t said a word since we left.”

Goro realizes they’ve been walking for a while, so long that they’re already at the station, awaiting the next train. Their hands are still clasped together (... _so warm_ …) but he can feel Akira’s grip loosening as he also looks on in concern.

Goro tightens it. “I’m alright. I was simply lost in my thoughts.”

“Huh… If you say so…”

Ryuji continues to ramble on but Goro can’t hear him. As soon as his eyes drift over to Akira, all the noise disappears and he’s lost once more. The smile on his face, the little nods he gives to Ryuji, the crinkling of his eyes as he laughs—Goro catches it all.

_…a sign of love?_

—————————

At some point during the shopping trip, Akira found himself a shirt he liked and started for the dressing room. Goro, panicked because of this (he would be left alone with Ryuji, of all people) decided to snatch a random shirt off of the rack and insisted on going with him. After a shared glance, Akira agreed.

Now he’s in a small changing room, directly beside Akira as he goes to remove his shirt to change, and Goro is once again panicking. A flash of Akira removing his glasses, slipping out of his coat, slowly taking off his scarf, and reaching for the hem of his shirt makes Goro’s cheeks burn.

“Hey,” comes a hushed laugh. Akira’s hand brushes Goro’s chin, making the latter jump in surprise. “Are you okay?”

Goro hums in response, trying to calm his own heart. “I’m fine,” he replies, voice cracking. How embarrassing—he struggles to hide it with, “I’m all right. You?”

“ _I_ _’m_ okay, but I don’t think you are.” Ever analyzing, Akira tilts his head and stares. “Your face is red. Are you hot?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. “It’s… sweltering in here, isn’t it?”

“Not really.” In contrast to his words, Akira reaches for Goro’s scarf. Soft hands unfurl the material from his neck and slip it off, going for his jacket next. “You should have these off anyway if you’re going to try on…whatever that is?”

He’s looking at the random shirt Goro had ripped off the hanger. There’s a second where he ponders lying (maybe Akira is _so_ surprised, he won’t detect it) but decides against it. Goro wishes he’d stopped to look at the shirt before yanking it off the rack. It’s not likely he’d ever be caught wearing a shirt with _flamingos_ plastered over its surface.

“Well… I’m not sure.” He reaches over to finger the material of the shirt, a wince curling on his mouth. “It’s interesting though, isn’t it?”

“Interesting is an understatement,” Akira laughs under his breath. Twinkling eyes turn back to Goro, soft laughter turning into a good-natured smile, and he can’t stand it anymore.

Goro can’t _take it anymore_.

With his scarf off and out of his way, he surges forward, cups the side of Akira’s face, and mashes their lips together. As if he’d found two perfect pieces of a puzzle, they fit together perfectly and he can’t help but shudder in relief when his kiss is reciprocated.

This isn’t like the kiss last night, in the dim light of the closed cafe, the moon still filtering in. This kiss isn’t as soft and sweet, innocent and delicate—it’s something entirely new. For some unknown reason, it has Goro _nervous_. For a split-second, he can hear an echo of Boss’ voice in his mind. Is this a part of that love he spoke of?

A series of thumps sound from within his chest—could that be his heart vibrating from deep within? The murmur follows outside of his body, reverberating down his arms and to the hands gripping at Akira’s waist. His boyfriend seems to pick up on it, body shaking against him gently, and Goro only grips him tighter. How did he manage to find Akira, this perfect human being that makes his life richer? 

Akira suddenly leaves his lips, cold air rushing to envelop the warmth they once had. Their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds—both sets unnaturally dark in the bright room—and Goro feels his senses become overloaded. His chest _aches_ , but he can’t pin it down. He cannot comprehend why.

Why does Akira affect him so much?

Goro doesn’t realize he’d whispered Akira’s name until he sees the smile on his boyfriend’s face. “That’s new,” he murmurs quietly, still attempting to calm his breathing. “You sounded so… _small._

“Shut up,” Goro hisses as the heat of embarrassment rises, painting his cheeks a darker color. “I’m not small.”

Akira leans forward to catch his lips again, this time only leaving a small peck, and laughs again. “Little Goro…” comes another whisper. “So cute.” 

Goro wants to reply with anything, simply to save face, but he never gets the chance to.

“You guys done yet?” comes Ryuji’s obnoxious shout from outside of the changing rooms. “I get wanting to try on a new shirt, but _damn_ , it’s been way too long. We have other places to check out, man!”

“My god,” is Goro’s hushed and panicked response. He can feel how hot his face is but he repositions his clothes anyway, fixing his coat and reaching for his scarf.

Akira, by his lonesome, decides to giggle at the reaction. “Coming out now!” he yells. “Give us a second!”

“Do you think he heard us?”

He shakes his head, still grinning. “No, I don’t think so.” Akira looks at the shirt he’d chosen, realizes he never tried it on, then shrugs and puts his own coat on. “If he _did_ , he wouldn’t have revealed himself.”

“Really?” Goro muses, willing his cheeks to drop all color. “That'd be the first semi-intelligent reaction I’ve heard he could _possibly_ do.”

“Hey! Ryuji is smarter than you give him credit for.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

Akira pouts, the grin long forgotten as he snatches Goro’s scarf from his hand. “You’ll see. He’ll surprise you one day.”

He only rolls his eyes in reply and lets Akira wrap his scarf around his neck once again before doing his own. They grab their respective chosen shirts (Goro gives his own a short glance, thinks about it in that second, then tosses it back into the changing room) and they walk out together.

“Finally,” Ryuji laughs as he spots them and saunters over. He has absolutely nothing in his hands (surely he’d found _something_ he liked in all that time, but why would Goro expect for him to get something done) but nonetheless, he still looks excited. “Thought we’d never get out of here. Where to next, do you think?”

“Isn’t there anything specific your mother enjoys?” Goro says coldly, pulling his gloves tighter. “It would cut our time together in half.”

“I mean, there’s some…” The man is about to go on when his eyes squint hard, face moving towards Goro’s until it’s but a few inches away. He snorts. “You super cold or somethin’? Your cheeks look as red as your scarf.”

It’s an instant reminder of what had just transpired in the changing room (Akira’s smile inches away, the soft laughs beside his ears, and the gentle pecks on his lips) and Goro feels that embarrassed heat resurface.

“Y-Yes,” he stammers, making a show to tighten his coat. “That must be it. Maybe a break would do me some good. Hot chocolate?”

Akira nods rapidly. “Sounds like a plan! Let’s get to it.”

Ryuji is already talking a mile a minute, mostly about Ann and how pissed she’d be if she knew they were getting hot chocolate without her, but Goro tunes him out as soon as he sees Akira reach behind him. It’s instinctive for him to reach out on his own, the pair linking their fingers tight together and following Ryuji out the door.

Goro smiles to himself, not even feeling the cold.

—————————

It’s a few hours later, during the quietest time of the cafe, that Goro allows himself to curl into the booth against the far wall. He has his laptop on, bright screen contrasting against his features in the dim light, making it hard to see past it. He’s not that bothered by that fact though, given that he knows Akira is napping soundly upstairs.

As he scrolls on his phone, having been distracted by a notification, his screen suddenly chirps with an announcement of a text, one by an unknown number. He frowns at it, recognizing the area code, before reading the message.

**???**

_hey goro!_

**Goro**

_Hello?_

_Who is this?_

**???**

_omg it’s me Ann :(_

_did Akira never give you my number??_

**Goro**

_Hm, no. He didn’t._

_How did you get ahold of mine?_

**Ann Takamaki**

_oh that’s from our group chat_

_in our PT days remember?_

_i saved it then_

**Goro**

_Just as well, I suppose._

_Akira has insisted I give out my number._

_That’s one down._

**Ann Takamaki**

_haha! that’s funny!_

Goro frowns. Which part?

**Ann Takamaki**

_you’re welcome for the help then ;)_

_anyway i wanted to ask how your gift picking is going_

_any luck??_

**Goro**

_Unfortunately, no._

_I’m currently on my laptop, but I admit I did get distracted._

**Ann Takamaki**

_omg yeah that happens to me too_

_homework was always a pain because of that_

_my phone and i with a deadline? totally toxic_

**Goro**

_Sure._

**Ann Takamaki**

_i’m always here to help_

_if you need it, anyway_

_i know how you are_

**Goro**

_Do you?_

_Know how I am, I mean?_

**Ann Takamaki**

_i like to think so_

_we’ve known each other for a while now_

_a few months from 2 years right?_

**Goro**

_But we’re not close._

**Ann Takamaki**

_i guess not_

_but we can be_

_if that’s ok with you :)_

**Goro**

_I’m sorry?_

_What are you proposing?_

**Ann Takamaki**

_i’m saying we can be friends_

_i’ll be your friend_

_and you’ll be mine_

Friends? With Ann? Ann Takamaki?

Goro can think of worse things—worse _people_ to be friends with, but isn’t this a year too late? Almost two years and not once did they ever text, let alone knowingly exchange numbers. But when Christmas is looming just a few days away, Ann decides it’s time to offer friendship? Why?

**Ann Takamaki**

_you’re not replying_

_i scared you off, didn’t i :(_

_i’m sorry_

**Goro**

_No._

_I was just shocked._

**Ann Takamaki**

_sorry :(_

_i just started thinking about you earlier_

_when we all stayed behind at leblanc, you sat by yourself almost the whole afternoon_

_and we sat in a group talking because_

_…well…_

_that’s what friends do_

_it made me realize you didn’t have any_

**Goro**

_I’ve never had a need for friends, no._

_But I do have Akira._

_He’s given me everything._

**Ann Takamaki**

_and you two are adorable :)_

_but Goro_

_friends are important too_

_especially when you’ve never experienced what it’s like to have them_

Why is this so hard? Every word Goro types feels like a nail digging into his brain. It’s a tight pinch at first, but every message in return only hammers it in deeper. Is Ann telling the truth? He desperately wants to ask Akira, his main source of information in anything he’s never experienced for himself, but he’s still napping. Goro shuts his eyes, even when he feels his phone buzz gently from another incoming message. Breathe. Breathe. He wills the pain from the imaginary nail to disappear, instead pinching his wrist in an effort to shake it off. It only lessens, but the humming warmth is still in the base of his skull.

Breathe. Breathe.

He opens his eyes to a couple more messages.

**Ann Takamaki**

_it’s a different kind of love with friends_

_there’s different types, if you didn’t know_

_the love you have right now, with Akira_

_it’s romantic_

_but another one is the kind between friends_

_you can’t get both from him_

Different types of love? Now she sounds hysterical.

**Goro**

_I don’t think you understand._

_I have everything I need._

**Ann Takamaki**

_okay_

_i get it_

_i just wanted…_

_i just want to be friends_

_cant we be friends?_

Goro never replies.

—————————

He lets the days pass by without ever looking at Ann’s messages again. They’re always in the back of his mind, taunting him with _what-ifs_ and other questionable thoughts, but it’s the same ending every time—he doesn’t need any friends. He has Akira.

Those days leading up to Christmas somehow remind him how lucky he is to have the man in his life. Whether it’s the smiles he gives early in the morning to perk him up, the warm hands that cup his frozen fingers between them, or the affectionate taps to his chin, Goro knows he’ll always be okay with him by his side.

It’s also at these times that he remembers Boss’ words that morning at Leblanc. Sometimes he wants to forget them. Goro never promised him, but since then, the words have only haunted him as a vow.

_Love him._

The day before Christmas, Goro wakes up determined to finally pick a present for Akira. He’s waited far too long and he has less than twenty-four hours to wrap it and center it underneath the small Christmas tree the two of them had put up in the corner of the cafe one night.

Goro lets his day go as normal (breakfast, morning walk, a short break to watch the news, catch up on weekday cases he might’ve missed with Sae-san, lunch, paperwork, and then an early dinner) before he decides it’s time to leave. With a haphazard list of possible gift ideas tight between his fingers, he walks out with his eyes glued to the sheet.

**_Possible Gifts_ **

  * _gloves (red maybe?)_


  * dress shoes (he likes the black ones)


  * lint roller (mona hair)


  * cat bed (mona?)


  * a scarf!


  * …keep thinking :(



Keep thinking. Indeed.

Maybe it’s best to just walk amongst the aisles until he spots something he likes the look of. Sure, it will take a lot longer than he’d like, and he still has to make it back in time to shove it under the tree—but he can do it. He _will_ do it.

Goro steps into the underground mall suddenly feeling like a tourist. Even after all the visits he’s paid to the area, he no longer recognizes it. The space is too large, filled with too many people, and he’s confused about where to start first. The chatter all around him becomes grating as he looks back to his list. He’s trying to focus on the words and still think of other possible ideas, but the noise—why is it so loud? He sucks in his bottom lip and bites down. _Hard._ There’s a split second of pain before Goro tastes metal and he allows the stinging to refocus him.

Why is he spinning out of control? Why now?

“—oro?”

Hm? He turns his head in the direction of the noise, but can’t see anyone he recognizes. Was that his name? Is there someone here that he knows? A few seconds pass, but no one shows their face. Goro clears his throat and tries to step past a wall of bodies (why are so many people buying flowers this time of year?) when he hears the voice again.

“Goro!”

 _No, no, no, no_ …

A hand hooks around the crook of his elbow and yanks him back, hard enough that he becomes grounded in place. It’s here that he should pray to whatever could be within those skies high above, but when has Goro Akechi believed in that?

“I can’t believe I caught you shopping!” Ann squeals from beside him. “What are you doing here?”

He levels a droll stare on her. “Take a guess.”

“Oh. Right…” Her smile slips from her obvious mistake, but she covers it up well. “I’m just out with Shiho right now, waiting on the girls. Do you want to join us?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really!”

Goro lets Ann drag him out from the depths of the crowd and towards the edge of the walkway. There stands dark-haired Shiho, a longtime friend of Ann and (just recently) her girlfriend. He, of course, has no quarrel with the girl, but sometimes he’s reminded of how far his past actions had rippled—Shiho, potentially, being one of them.

He’d met her before, of course, back when Makoto and Haru had both graduated. The group had planned a party for them, which Ann insisted included their own individual friends as well. Seeing as she was the only one who _had_ an individual friend, there wasn’t a word of opposition.

“Hello again,” he greets casually, arm still attached to Ann’s side.

“Hey, long time no see,” Shiho replies, giving a little wave. “She’s not bothering you too much, is she?”

“Ann?” Goro decides to send her a crooked smile. “Of course not. How could Ann ever _bother_ me?”

“Oh, hush,” she giggles. It’s here she finally releases Goro and goes to Shiho, laying her head affectionately down on one shoulder. “So, I guess we can talk gift ideas? Got any yet?” But Goro never gets to reply, seeing as Ann must’ve seen the list still clenched in his hands. She dives forward before a breath slips past his lips, and snatches it from his grip. 

“W-Wait!” he yelps in surprise, lunging after her even as she continues to dodge his arms. He feels his annoyance rise as he fumbles. “Takamaki! Give it!”

“Ann,” Shiho calls, a hint of warning in her voice.

But she can’t hear them, and it’s scary how good she is at escaping him. With an expression clear of any emotion, Ann dances around him, eyes glued to the page as she takes in the short expanse of words. And then just as suddenly, she stops, which is too soon for Goro because he all but slams into her back, chin bumping her ponytail.

“Damnit,” he curses, rubbing his chin with his wrist. “Are you quite finished? I’d like my sheet back.”

“For what?” she snorts, though she turns her hand towards him. “There’s nothing really on here.”

“I _tried_ ,” is his insistence, and he feels his cheeks burn with annoyance. It irks him that his list for Akira (no matter how small) has been seen by Ann. “I’ve never done… gift shopping, so it’s harder than I originally believed it to be.”

That pitiful smile from the week before is back and it’s enough to send that annoyance into the pit of his stomach. Goro feels that hot magma of irritation boil deep inside once more. He can feel a rumble from within starting to rise up, curling his lips down and furrowing his brows—just to the point where his fingers itch to curl into a fist and his feet beg to take him anywhere but beside Ann Takamaki.

Why is it always _her_ that manages to anger him?

“And that’s why we’re friends.”

The magma within explodes at her words. _Friends_. His lips split, a scowl forming as words bubble up at the base of his throat, and he feels a rasp starting as he begins to speak. Why does she continue to insist on being _friends_? He doesn’t see the crowd anymore, doesn’t register the worried Shiho just beside them, can’t hear the chatter anymore—he only sees the smile and the blond ponytail swinging with every movement. He reaches for her and—

“Hey, everyone!”

It’s Makoto. His arm drops like a dead weight and so does his anger, turning ice-cold within him and going dormant once more. He turns away from the blonde one, looking instead to someone he’s believed has always been on his same intellectual level. It’s nice to have a friendly face around.

Makoto looks surprised to see him and so does Haru, following not a half-second behind her. “Goro?” she asks quietly. “I didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

“I wasn't aware either,” he grunts stiffly. He goes to fix his sleeves, readjusting the cuffs on the ends of his coat. “But Ann caught me from the crowd… _unfortunately…_ ”

He knows for sure Shiho nor Ann heard the last bit but by the curl on Makoto’s lips, Goro can tell she has. Ha.

“The more, the merrier,” Makoto grins.

“Of course,” Haru adds, though she doesn’t look as much at ease as Makoto does. “More heads are better than one. We’ll all help each other for last-minute shopping.”

“Goro is in desperate need,” Ann groans from behind him. She appears at his side, arms wrapping once more around his elbow, and he stiffens at her touch. Doesn’t she get it? “We should help him out first.”

_Let go._

Makoto and Haru’s eyes drop to her hold on Goro and then share a look. “Of course,” is Makoto’s reply. She sounds hesitant and a little concerned. “Here, Haru and I will lead him. We’ll follow you and Shiho.”

Ann, although confused by the look of her furrowed brows, agrees and grabs Shiho. The two of them giggle at each other and then start forward, leaving the other three to follow. Makoto and Haru flank Goro’s sides as they walk, the two of them insistent not to leave him behind.

“Are you okay?” comes a whisper from Makoto. “I noticed a bit of tension between you and Ann.”

“I’m fine.” It’s his immediate response and one he stands by. There’s no need to break down for Makoto. She doesn’t get it. “I’ve had a strange past couple of days. That’s all.”

“You can talk to me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Goro?” It’s Haru now. “It really is quite all right to tell us. If you’re afraid we’ll tell her, we promise we won’t.”

“That’s not it.” 

Why is everyone so insistent today? Won’t they leave him alone? 

“I’m perfectly fine. I just need to be in my own thoughts for a while.”

There’s a gentle touch on the back of his hand, just a simple brush but warm enough to startle him. “If you’re sure,” Makoto smiles. “Just let me know.”

Goro can’t muster a reply.

He watches them step ahead of him, arms linking immediately as they offer each other a smile. There’s a pang in his chest at the sight (what is this feeling?) but he ignores it as the path parts and the girls lead him inside the nearest store.

“What do you think?” Ann shouts once they’re in hearing range. “I was thinking we could check out some jewelry or even some watches.”

Haru breaks into a series of giggles, something Goro was _not_ expecting. “If this is a poke at Akira always being late, I wholly support it.”

A chorus of laughter bubbles across the whole group and even Goro cracks a smile. They’re not wrong. Shiho is the only one who wears a half-hearted smile, seeing as she doesn’t know Akira as well as the others, but he still meets her eyes to smile at her.

“Haru, _this_ is why I love you,” Ann confesses. She crosses the small space and embraces Haru, who only giggles again. “I am never letting you out of my life. You always understand me.”

“Didn’t everyone—”

“She was first, Mak.”

Everyone’s still laughing but it’s been a solid minute that Goro has been checked out of the conversation. _Ann said love_. He can’t help himself—all it took was a single utterance and he’s thrown back to his conversation with Boss.

_Love him._

_Love_.

But this time, Ann wasn’t talking about romantic love. She wouldn’t; not in front of her girlfriend. So what kind of love would she have with Haru? Could it be… that friendship love she had talked about?

He needs to talk to her.

“Ann,” Goro mutters before he can stop himself. “Can I talk to you?”

The entire group (except Shiho) looks startled at these words. But as always, Ann covers it up and instead smiles at him. That smile…

“Sure. Let's find somewhere quieter.”

Since she knows the area a lot better than he does, Goro lets her lead him out of the store and towards the stairs leading up to the walkway. Against the walls are the restrooms; male, female, and then family. After a quick glance around, Ann reaches back to yank on his sleeve and pulls him into the last one.

It’s dark inside. Goro hears the click of the lock and suddenly the lights are on.

“Okay. What’s up?”

She’s leaning against the door as if blocking his escape, never mind the fact that Goro was the one who approached her in the first place. Ann’s arms are crossed but her eyes are wide open, exposed curiosity bleeding from every pore. Does it bother him how eager Ann is to help all the time, regardless of how he treats her?

Sometimes.

“I noticed you told Haru you… love her?” he starts uneasily. “Is that the love between friends that you mentioned?”

It’s like he’d just offered her a once-in-a-lifetime deal. Her eyes light up like beacons and she stands erect, a grin growing on her face. “Yes! That’s what I was talking about. Now you get it!”

“So…”

“So…?”

“How do you know?”

“Know what?”

Goro pauses. Sucks in a breath. Forces it out, chest shaking.

“How do you know when you love someone?”

The silence that follows his question is stifling. Goro can clearly hear the hum of the fan above, yet the footsteps traveling just past the door are just as loud. His heart hammers in his ears and he wonders if, in the silence, Ann can hear it too. He hopes not.

“ _How do you_ … Goro, what are you talking about?”

Why does she look so concerned all of a sudden? Isn’t his question a valid one? She should understand that he’s not as experienced in love and what it entails, not like she is. Sure, she’s had her own problems in the past but through the thick and thin, Ann has always had at least one person who loved her at any time. Goro hasn’t.

“ _Love_ , Ann,” he repeats, voice lowering in octaves until it sounds close to a growl. His hands clench again, nails biting into his palms and he focuses on that pain. “When do you know you love someone? When do you know you’re in love?”

“Are you… not in love with Akira?”

Like a chain reaction, his hands unclench while his heart squeezes. His eyes go wide as his face blushes harshly, though, from embarrassment or confusion, he has no idea.

“ _What?_ Ann, how can you—” His words fail him, resulting in blubbered words and darting eyes, desperate to land on anything but the piercing gaze zeroing in on him. “That’s not what I—can you just answer my question? This isn’t—stop that!” He backpedals slowly, a step at a time, polished shoes scuffing against the tile as if he could escape any second. “I just… I…”

“Goro.”

Two harsh grips plant themselves on either one of his shoulders to focus his gaze on her. Once again, he goes rigid at her touch. But this is for an entirely different reason. Ann is… moving fluidly. Is she okay?

“Ann,” he mumbles. “You’re blurry. What’s…”

“Goro, it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?” 

His voice sounds so small, so childlike. That’s never happened before. Goro isn’t one to make himself appear weak and yet he’s camped inside of a family-sized bathroom with the one girl who always manages to piss him off and she’s _blurry_. _Why is she blurry_?!

There’s a barely visible smile on her lips, but it’s not the one that always irritates him. This time it’s a look of understanding. Goro feels something touch his face.

“I mean it’s okay to cry.”

“Who’s crying?”

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You said I look blurry.”

“That’s… That’s your fault, not mine.”

With an exasperated sigh, Ann reaches up and uses a single finger to brush his cheek. It’s only when she pulls it away, enough for his blurry eyes to finally focus, that he can see it’s wet. There’s a tear sitting on the tip.

“ _I’m_ crying.”

Goro Akechi is crying. When was the last time he cried? Honestly, he can’t remember. He’s had plenty of moments where he was in so much pain, he should’ve cried but didn’t. And others where his anger sprouted water from his tear ducts, but that doesn’t really count, does it?

“You started after I asked if you love Akira,” Ann reminds him, wiping the tear on her shirt. She then releases his shoulders, watching him curiously from the door once again. “Did I say something wrong?”

Goro hastily wipes his face and his vision returns. Dammit.

“Let me be frank,” he chokes out, emotion clogging his voice. “I don’t _know_. Everyone keeps telling me that I love him, or I _should_ love him, or I have to _keep_ loving him. But…” He pauses, turning in such a way that he knows Ann can’t read his expression. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it is or what it feels like. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“About love?”

He only nods. Not another word until the emotion dies down.

“Love is complicated to explain,” she starts. “But as for basics… love is when you care for someone a whole lot. Not in the generic sense. I mean when they’re on your mind all day and you wonder what they’re doing. Their happiness is yours—so is sadness. You mirror their emotions at the drop of a hat.”

Goro can’t look at Ann, not like this, but he sees a flash of her in the mirror as she begins to move. He continues to shift himself so she can’t see his expression, desperate for his emotions to calm down.

“Romantic love is slightly different, but only for obvious reasons. You can’t picture a life without them. You want to grow old with them. You want to experience life together.” Her shoes scuff as she stops, the squeak echoing against the bare bathroom walls. “Does that help?”

“I don’t know.”

“Akira loves you,” she promises. “I know that for a fact.”

“You don't.”

“Goro, I _do._ What can I do to convince you?”

He shakes his head, his bangs filtering down and brushing his eyelashes. “Nothing. I-I need to go.”

“Go?”

Goro is already pulling the bathroom door open before she can stop him. He bumps into a woman on the other side, arms clutching a little boy tightly to her, and she yelps on impact. “Sorry,” is all he can mutter as he storms past her and towards the exit.

“Goro!” Ann is chasing him, likely having just bumped into the woman as well, but thanks to his head start, he just might make it.

He barely registers who he’s passed before, “Goro?” erupts beside him and he takes a split second to meet Makoto’s eyes. “Where—are you leaving?”

“Hello?” Ann shouts. “Stop him!”

But with one glare, they ignore her order and allow him to leave. He slips out the front doors and into the cold air without another word. Before Ann can catch him in the freezing cold, Goro heads off for the subway.

He needs time. He needs space.

He needs…

Goro needs to think.

—————————

His phone is buzzing. Text messages.

Once. Twice.

There’s a pause.

A longer buzz now. A phone call perhaps?

Goro is in bed, curled between his sheets and staring at his pulled curtains. It’s dark in the room, nearing dusk, and he can’t help but wallow in self-pity. It’s new for him but oh-so fitting after the day he’s had.

The buzzing stops and then starts again.

He wants to look at it but he already knows it’s Akira. Goro has all but disappeared into thin air, though it’s obvious where he would go. Home, of course. And he’s tired. _So_ tired. He wants to sleep all day, for the rest of the day, and just forget everything. He wants to forget the girls, forget Ann, forget crying in front of her, and forget how embarrassing it all was. 

How could Goro admit that to her? To Ann, of all people?

His phone begins to send off short but fast bursts now, indicating Akira’s rising anger. So be it. Akechi just wants to disappear anyway, so how fitting would it be to go out with Akira hating him.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Goro Akechi falls asleep to the buzzes from his vibrating phone.

—————————

Goro wakes up midday on Christmas day, fully-rested and feeling like an ass. Not only is his phone reminding him what a piece of crap he is (over 200 missed messages and calls put together from Akira…) but he briefly remembers leaving the store _without a gift._

For lack of a better word, he’s fucked.

So he rushes out of bed and puts his morning routine on fast-forward. He spends a lot less time showering and even less time with his hair, which is resolved with a haphazard winter hat thrown on top. While he still takes his time choosing, the outfit he selects is on his body faster than ever before. With his shoes by the door and a banana in one hand, Goro leaves the apartment all too soon.

“You’re fucked.”

Goro sighs. “That’s what I said.”

Ryuji pushes himself off the window of the third floor and approaches, hand shoved deep in his pockets. “Akira was going nuts yesterday when you didn’t answer his texts or calls. When he got hold of Ann and she explained what went down?” He whistles low, a sort of smirk appearing on his mouth. “He was _pissed._ ”

“Yes, I know. I listened to the voicemails.”

Luckily, Ann hadn’t shared any of the explicit details. Unfortunately, it only made him sound like even more of an ass, stranding the girls all alone in the store and storming off like a child. Add to the fact that Goro has never ignored Akira’s calls or texts, and he knows he’s in for it.

Which is why he needs a present. Anything. Perfection.

But at the same time, Goro wants to turn around and skip the party altogether. With both of Sojiro and Ann’s voices floating in his head, the whole topic of love is starting to get to him.

“Why are you here?” he asks Ryuji as they wait for the elevator. 

The man shrugs. “The boss sent me. Can’t say no.”

“So Akira has sent me a babysitter.”

“I guess? Just wants to make sure you don’t— _poof_ —disappear again.”

“I suppose.”

He wasn’t going to, not if staying home counted.

Neither of them attempts small talk in the elevator, which is fine by Goro. Like Ann, Ryuji is just one of those people that he can’t easily get along with. Among Akira’s friends, Makoto is the only one who doesn’t constantly conjure the urge to rip off her head, and he quite likes it that way. But everyone else? Too much.

Ryuji walks with him all the way to the subway stairs before he speaks again. “Where we going?”

“I am going shopping.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again. I’m unaware when my free time was any of your concern.”

“Babysitter, remember?”

Right.

“So you’ll be following me all day until I’m safely in the cafe at Akira’s side?” Turning to catch the man’s expression is amusing, especially the way the tips of his ears turn red in annoyance.

“Just don't be a pain in the ass. Today’s Christmas.”

“And that means what?”

“Just… Jesus, Goro, don’t be an ass! That’s what it means!”

Now his cheeks are red too. Ha. It’s so amusing to tease him.

A few silent minutes later and the train has arrived, whisking Goro and Ryuji down the line towards Akihabara. Where Shibuya failed to provide, perhaps the electronic center could give him something to return with. It’s with this thought in mind that he steps onto the same street as always, though he once again feels like a tourist. The chatter is back.

“Calm down,” Ryuji suddenly scolds. There’s a grip on his elbow, pulling him back a step. “You’re shaking like crazy. Take a breath, man.”

“It’s cold, isn’t it? Aren't you cold?”

“Sure, I guess.” The grip disappears. “Let’s just get going then.”

“No can do,” Goro almost sings. He starts for the game store, one he knows Akira frequents. “I’m shopping if you recall?”

“You don’t play games.”

“It’s not for me. But how would you know that anyway?”

“I’m your boyfriend’s best friend. We talk.”

“I see.”

“Only games you play are the arcade.”

“Isn’t that similar then?”

“Really?”

It goes on like this in every store they go to, constant bickering under hushed voices and irritated tones. Ryuji, at one point, almost knocks over a display from turning too fast, and it takes Goro all of a second to create enough distance between the two of them that Ryuji is basking in the spotlight, all on his own. He doesn’t let that go easily, but neither does Goro with the fact that he has a _babysitter_. He pissed Akira off, that he’s aware of, but so much that he sent Ann’s annoying counterpart?

It isn’t until mid-afternoon, just an hour before the party, that Akechi gives up.

“That’s it,” he sighs, slipping onto a cold metal bench on the corner of a street. “There’s nothing. No gifts he would appreciate and nothing that could possibly quell his wrath against me.”

“Whatever that second part was, yeah,” Ryuji mumbles beside him. “We should head back soon. Boss said he’s making something special so…”

“You can go.”

“Nope,” immediately follows Goro’s words. “God, I knew you were gonna say that! Genius, or what?”

“Or what.”

“Shut up.”

There’s a fresh bout of silence.

“Ryuji, you love your mother.” This isn’t a question. He knows the answer.

Ryuji, who’s sitting back with one foot dangling over the opposite knee, takes a second to process. His foot begins to shake gently. “‘Course I do.”

“You’d do anything for her.”

“In a heartbeat.”

_Goro would do anything for Akira in a heartbeat._

“You’d protect her no matter what.”

“Last line of defense.”

_Goro would protect Akira forever._

“You’d die for her.”

“Without a second thought.”

_Goro was ready to die for him in that Palace. He did die._

“You love her. That’s what love is.”

Here is where Ryuji hesitates, and his foot stops moving. “Yeah? Like I said, I love my mom. Where’s this going?”

_Love is a feeling that one would hold for a special person in their life, that they would give their own to protect. Nothing comes before that special someone. That someone is the only human being in that person's life that can make them the weakest even when strong._

Love… is what Goro has.

“I… love him.”

“Who?”

“I love him.”

“Akira? Yeah, we know.”

Goro doesn’t hear him. “I need to go.”

“What? Where?”

“Akira. I need to talk to him.”

“Oh. Then let’s go.”

Quick as a bullet, Goro darts off the bench and starts sprinting in the location to the subway. Surprisingly, Ryuji almost has to fight to catch up, but only due to the head start. He matches stride easily, even conserving enough to shout over, “The hell are you doing? Next train isn’t for eight minutes. We have time!”

“I _don’t_!”

Goro is running down the crowded sidewalks, eyes trained for the nearest set of stairs down. There’s a blockage at one corner, the entrance clogged, so he stops for a few seconds, foot tap-tap-tapping away from frayed nerves. He needs to get to Akira before he chickens out or something else happens that forces him to run from all of the tension and awkwardness of the past few days. If he can just get to him and tell him on time, maybe, just maybe, he can—

“ _There you are_.”

“Ryuji, just leave—”

“You idiot!”

Goro realizes his mistake once he turns. That wasn’t Ryuji talking. It was—

“Akira.”

There, standing just a few yards away, is Akira. Goro can’t help the way his heart swells on just seeing him—his boyfriend. _The man he loves_. But he’s all too aware of the look on his face, the one curling his lips and darkening his already twilight eyes. His hair is disheveled, clothes were clearly thrown on at a moment’s notice, and even his usually prim scarf is lying lazily around his neck. Akira Kurusu is _pissed_.

“Where have you been?” the younger insists, storming forward until Goro’s suddenly pale face is only inches away. He hears how heavy Akira is breathing, but he can also see something in the depths of his eyes, hidden behind the visible anger. “I haven’t seen you in two days!”

“I…” 

Why are his words failing him now? Just a minute ago, Goro was ready to pour his heart out. But in Akira’s presence, and seeing how angry he is from their temporary separation, he doesn’t want to affect Akira even more. Professing his love at a time like this? Should he?

Gosh, he’s never been so unsure of his emotions before.

“Goro, where did you—?” Ryuji surprisingly shows up with Yusuke at his side but stops short when he sees Akira. “Er, never mind. We’ll meet you guys there.”

As they step past to fight their way through the nearby crowd, Goro hears Yusuke mumble, “ _I’m confused. Why aren’t we traveling with the two of them?_ ”

“ _Yusk, shut up_.”

In the time it takes them to join the crowd and disappear into the depths below, Goro raids his own mind, fighting the armored spirit inside that wants to run from his troubles. It takes all of his willpower to simply knock it down momentarily, allowing the weaker but sure thought to filter through; _this is it—it’s time._ He can do it. All he has to do is be honest.

“Please answer me,” comes Akira’s plea not long after. “Where were you? Ann told me you went shopping yesterday, but you just bailed? And ignored all my calls and texts… What happened?”

_Please._

Goro looks up and locks their gazes. Here we go.

“I went out shopping for _you_ ,” he starts quietly. “I still needed to purchase your present and met Ann there, who was in the midst of a shopping day with the girls. While we were together, Haru accepted a joke of Ann’s, and she confessed to Haru of her love.”

“Ann confessed her love to Haru?”

“Friendly love, yes. Between friends.”

Akira looks dumbfounded. “What happened next?”

“That word left me confused. _Love_. For the past week, I’ve been struggling with that word.” Goro expects Akira’s face to fall, to shift in expression, but the same curiosity sits tight. “Boss said something to me that morning when I woke you up, and it’s been on my mind since.”

“What was that?”

“He told me to… love you.”

The expression finally falls. Akira’s eyes widen in horror and his mouth pops open, shoulders dropping their hardened stance. “He told you _what_?”

“To love you,” Goro repeats like a mantra. “And I was so—”

Unexpectedly, Akira surges forward and embraces Goro, head burying into the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry,” the younger mumbles into his skin.

Goro’s heart stutters from the sudden heat on his neck, thanks to Akira’s heavy breaths. He shivers slightly, the color in his cheeks darkening. “You’re what?”

“He shouldn’t have said that to you. That’s not okay.” Akira pulls back, worried eyes raking over his face. “He meant well, I’m sure, but that’s too much pressure. Is that what’s been worrying you?”

 _He understands_. Just those words manage to warm Goro’s heart and this summons a grin that had been hiding ever since he’d laid eyes on him. “Yes, exactly. For days I wondered what to do.”

The tension from before disappears instantly. Akira’s face softens and even lets a smile show before he leans forward to kiss Goro. Hands reach up to cup his cheeks as they meet, and Akira mumbles to him, “Don't feel forced. Never let anyone force you to do a single thing.”

Goro smiles in return, but it takes him a second to digest the words. “Wait. But… I do. I love you.”

“Hm?”

“I _do_ love you, Akira. That’s what I was struggling with.”

It’s Akira’s turn to stutter and the widened eyes are back, this time filled with hesitant surprise. “You do? Are you sure? This isn’t Sojiro influencing you, right?”

Even with the situation, the words prompt a hearty laugh to echo from Goro’s chest. He’s grinning wildly now, arms slipping around Akira in hopes to pull him tight against him. “It’s not Boss’ influence. I…” He ducks his face down lower, making sure their eyes stay together. “I love you, Akira Kurusu.”

Akira, in all his maturity, grins back like a boy on Christmas morning. “I love you too.”

Goro was expecting it, but the kiss immediately after those words was still enough to send the heat in the deep pools of his stomach to boil over. He feels on _fire_ as their lips meet, so much so that his measly scarf that was tied in a rush (and not at all well) feels like it’s choking him. His jacket is suddenly too tight, his gloves too restricting, the layers on his body feeling like they went on for eternity.

And then he feels a spot of cold on his cheek.

At first, Goro thinks nothing of it. Why would he? He has the love of his life in his arms, lips connected, arms entangled, even in the midst of a crowd while they make out on a street corner. But then he feels it again, this time on the tip of his right ear, and it draws out his curiosity. He breaks off from Akira and opens his eyes.

It’s _snowing_.

Falling all around them and filling the air are tiny, minuscule little snowflakes. The crowd seems frozen all around them, each pale face with red cheeks turned up towards the sky. The white flecks begin to decorate the contrasting hair colors around them, enticing whoops and laughter from the children standing beside their respective parents.

Goro follows a snowflake as it falls between them, landing ever so delicately on the edge of Akira’s nose. The skin there wrinkles immediately on contact and this forces a chuckle from the depths of Goro’s throat. He watches them fill the mop that is Akira’s hair, soon resembling a starry sky.

“Christmas snow, Goro,” Akira whispers in excitement. He suddenly releases him and spins in a tight circle under the sky, shouting, “It’s snowing!”

If it had been anyone else, he would’ve snapped at them to stop acting like a child, especially in front of the people still standing around. But just watching Akira, the man laughing and grinning as the snow began to pour down on him, Goro couldn’t help but encourage the antics.

He runs forward to join him, twisting and turning under the snowflakes. Arms fly out, hands joining together as they spin. The two of them can’t stop laughing, no matter how ridiculous they must look to the bystanders. Just this once, Goro doesn’t care what they think. He’s in love. The only opinion that matters is of the person who’s gripping him as if his life depends on it.

With a great sigh of relief, Goro spins Akira into him with a _thump_ and they collapse into each other. Akira is still laughing, but it lessens when their eyes meet.

“You’re amazing,” he tells Goro in an awed whisper.

“I love you,” is his hushed response.

Akira only retaliates with a hard kiss against his lips, one that increases the warmth filling him up from the inside. When they part, Goro can’t help but let his eyes roam over his features. Every single part of their faces is covered in the ever-melting mini snowflakes, but neither of them cares. He suddenly remembers Haru’s words from just a week ago.

 _Snow is breathtakingly beautiful_. 

As he stares at him, a smile curled on his lips, Goro finally understands what the fluffy-haired girl meant. Snow can be ever so beautiful.

—————————

Almost an hour later, as the two step off the train at Shibuya, Goro realizes something and takes a moment to pull out his phone. He taps his way to his messages and opens a chat that he never pictured himself opening again.

**Goro**

_Thank you._

It only takes a few moments for the bubble to appear, indicating a response. His phone buzzes gently as it appears.

**Ann**

_goro!_

_are you okay?_

_im so sorry about yesterday :(_

**Goro**

_Don’t apologize._

_You helped me immensely._

_That’s why I’m thanking you._

**Ann**

_really??_

_what for?_

**Goro**

_Well…_

_For being my friend, of course._

There isn’t a bubble after he sends his latest message, and for a second, he wonders what he said wrong. But before he can send another in panic, something along the lines of his message being a typo, the bubble reappears.

**Ann**

_of course!_

_glad i could help_

_friend :)_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
